Page 2 of Doctor Second Chance

"Elle? Oh, thank god, you're awake!"

I turn to see Sophie sitting beside the bed, her face drawn with concern. Her eyes are red-rimmed like she's been crying. “Are you okay? Soph...what's going on?” My voice comes out in a raspy croak. “What happened?”

She takes a shuddering breath. "You fell off the ladder at Izzy's house. Cut your hand open badly. You were bleeding everywhere and passed out… You scared all of us to death!”

The memories come flooding back—the fall, the sharp pain, the blood, the feeling of the ground rushing up at me. I glance down at my left hand, now bandaged. It feels heavy, like I can’t muster the strength to lift it up off the bed.

“Oh, my God.” I am fighting tears as the reality of what is happening hits me. “Where are we?”

“At the UAB emergency room. We decided we needed to call an ambulance since we couldn’t get you to stay conscious for more than a few seconds at a time. I was scared for anyone to move you. I rode with you in the ambulance here," Sophie continues.

“I rode in an ambulance?”

“Yes. The paramedics literally just rolled you into this room, not even a minute ago. We are still waiting for a doctor, nurse, or someone to come in and tell us what will happen next.”

“This can’t be happening right now. Does Izzy know?”

“I texted her on the ride here but haven’t heard back. If she isn’t already, she should be getting done with her massage any minute.”

We sent Isabella off to get a massage while we got everything set up. The point was for her to come home to a magical night to celebrate with our closest friends.

The party is in her gorgeous backyard, which is ideal for outdoor entertaining. It already has an enormous stone fireplace on an expansive brick deck. The centerpiece is a live oak with draping arms and Spanish moss all around.

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry this happened. I can't even recall what caused me to fall. I’m losing my shit that you called an ambulance! And I missed the whole thing! I’ve always wanted to ride in an ambulance, watching cars pull over as I zoom by.”

“We wouldn’t have if you didn’t keep passing out. I think we all want to ensure that falling on your head isn’t serious. Thank you, God,” she says dramatically, looking up at the hospital ceiling. “You landed perfectly on the seat cushion that just happened to be on the ground under the ladder. Someone up there was looking out for you. It was so scary, Elle. I’m so grateful you’re talking now! God, I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

“My mom always said I had a hard head.”

Sophie squeezes my arm. I can see the worry on her face and my blood all over her shirt. I hope I didn’t make a mess at Isabella’s house. I have so much anxiety right now, and none of it has anything to do with my fall.

I look down at my right arm, which is completely wrapped, resembling the end of a giant Q-Tip with the tips of my fingers barely poking out. They are covered with dried blood. My jeans are now a maroon color.

An IV is in my left arm, and some contraption is clipped to the pointer finger of my right, uninjured hand. I feel like I’m tied down to this bed.

All I can think about right now is Isabella’s engagement party tonight. A sense of dread washes over me, and an extreme need to get out of here overwhelms me.

“Now that I am awake and apparently fine, I think we should go. I don’t need to be here in the emergency room.”

“Um, that would be a big, fat no. You fell off of an eight-foot ladder. And you passed out multiple times. You’ll sit right here until we hear what the doctor says.”

“What is going to happen to the party? I can’t let this ruin her night. Is there a lot of blood at the house? Did it get all over everything? Will the yard be ready for the party?”

“Elle, don’t worry about all that right now. But to answer your question, everything will be fine. I promise you. Everyone else stayed there to finish up and, yes, there was a lot of blood, but Charity thought quickly and hosed off the brick. Vic put his ROTC experience to good use and made a tourniquet for your hand and wrist, so the blood was limited to just that space on the patio. Everything will go according to plan. We just all want you to be okay so you can enjoy all of your hard work!”

The door opens, and a nurse in light blue scrubs walks in, eyes glued to her clipboard. "Eloise Klass? Good to see you are awake. How are you feeling?”

She is reading something on the clipboard in her hands as she interrogates me. Somehow, it feels like she isn’t really interested in how I am feeling, at least on an emotional level.

I grimace. "Like I fell off the top of the Empire State Building."

She gives me a sympathetic look. "Well, the good news is, your vitals are stable. The bad news is that the laceration on your wrist is pretty severe. You're going to need stitches for sure, but we still need to determine if you’ll need surgery and if there's any tendon or nerve damage."

Surgery? On my wrist? Panic squeezes my chest. “But..." I am unable to utter any other words of protest as my throat constricts. I don’t live here. I have a party tonight. My plan is to go back home to Florida on Sunday and then catch a flight to LA on Monday.

There is no time for surgery. Hell, I don’t even have much time to get this stitched up and out of here in time to shower and be ready for the party to start at seven-thirty. Tears are welling up, and I want to tell her I have to go, but I know it will do no good.

My mind races with all the reasons I can’t be here doing this right now, except for the fact that she told me the injury is severe. How can a silly cut on my wrist be that bad?

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